Dream
by maximcffs
Summary: As Pietro Maximoff died, many thoughts ran through his head. Thoughts of want, wishing, and hoping. Oneshot.


**A/N:**

 **Still working on revisions for the old stories, ps don't freaking read them. Here is a one shot I made of Pietro Maximoff's death (which made me want to cry and hug him irl), which I made when I was supposed to be sleeping. Please review. Well, only if you want to. I'm not forcing anyone, I'm a moderately good person at times.**

 _ **UPDATE: THIS HAS NOW BEEN PROOFREAD AND STUFF. THIS HAS ALSO BEEN EXTENDED, BECAUSE I REALIZED HOW FREAKING SHORT THIS WAS. PLEASE STILL ALERT ME OF ANY ERRORS THAT I MISSED. THANK YOU.**_

* * *

Pietro turned to see a rain of bullets shooting down from the sky, and he turned again to see Clint Barton holding a young boy, facing the bullets.

The boy was indeed very young, and had been trapped in a small chasm. A streak of blood stuck to his face.

He watched as Clint prepared to shield the boy, with himself.

No one else was there to help.

And the speedster was inspired by Clint's heroic selflessness.

So he ran to protect them, just as Clint did to the boy.

 _Pietro Maximoff was simply too slow for the mass of bullets that hit him._

He wasn't fast enough to move the bullets out of the way, and instead caught them.

With his body.

 _Pietro Maximoff just wasn't fast enough._

But perhaps it was because he was malnourished under HYDRA's so called "care".

Perhaps he could have been faster.

And there could have been one less casualty in the battle against Ultron and his puppets.

As the bullets buried themselves into the boy's running figure, dark sprouts of blood started to spill from the wounds. They stained his shirt.

He would have to get a new one, afterwards. Now that he thought about it, he didn't have many other shirts. But it didn't matter, because these thoughts were reserved only for if he made it.

And right now, chances that would happen were slim.

He turned slightly to face Hawkeye, Clint Barton, and the boy he shielded.

"You didn't see that coming?"

And he collapsed on the ground.

Clint let the child go, and he walked towards Pietro.

He saw the little boy lying down on the ground as well, staring into his eyes. The little boy gazed into his hero's unblinking blue eyes as he thought about how he saved him. The little boy saw the bullet wounds all over him, which began to look like burns on his torn shirt.

The little boy saw the wounds, but looked at his eyes instead.

Pietro had been shot earlier, by a policeman. It barely grazed his arm, however.

It hadn't plunged into his arm, like these new bullets had. He pretended that he didn't mind the shot from earlier, but in truth, it kind of hurt.

 _The human brain can survive for a couple minutes after the heart stops beating before brain cells stopped dying._

But Pietro Maximoff was not a normal human being, and his brain was not a normal human brain.

Maybe that would save him for once, and keep him there for just a while longer.

Pietro Maximoff's heart was still beating. Still beating as Clint carried him onto the ship, or building, or whatever it was.

He couldn't really tell.

But it beat so slow and faintly that as the Captain checked it, he thought it had stopped.

It really hadn't.

 _Pietro Maximoff's heart was too slow._

He heard his sister's scream of agony when she saw him fall. He wondered if she felt anything that he felt, because a myth said that twins could do that.

He heard the explosions of Ultron's puppets when she furiously blasted them with a wave of red magic.

No one knew this, but as Clint buried his head into his arms, Pietro had cried.

Silent tears. Not the kind you would see from a person who was sobbing. The quiet ones that came from the most painful experiences.

From his blank, glassy eyes, a few tears fell down the side of his face, onto the ground. Just a few.

 _And Pietro Maximoff didn't cry because the bullets hurt so much._

He had felt worse pain, and survived it. So why couldn't he survive it now?

Pietro cried because his little sister would be all alone now.

His poor little twin sister would lose her only family left.

Their parents were dead.

They had no other relatives that they knew of.

And her brother was dying as she fought. 

_How cruel death could be._

Pietro also heard Clint, the old man, whispering to him and holding back sobs, and apologizing over and over again.

"I'm sorry Pietro, I'm so sorry."

Pietro wanted to smile, to smirk and make a snarky comment.

But he could barely lift a finger.

Soon his sister had stumbled over to him, nearly screaming as she cried. She knelt down over his fallen body and hugged him. Her tears soaked Pietro's hair. He heard other people surround him, possibly the Avengers. He felt Wanda attempt to heal him with her magic, but they both knew she couldn't it do it. Maybe not yet. He could almost feel the distressing sting in his throat from crying that his sister felt. Pietro confirmed the myth about twins. He could feel the silent mourning around him.

His heart lightly pounded in his ear one more time, and then it stopped.

One last, soft heart beat.

He waited for it again, but it didn't beat. Never again.

 _Pietro Maximoff was truly dying now._

His head hurt so much now, but it was nothing compared to where the bullets hit.

He wanted to scream and cry, and kick and hit the ground, and yell why he had to leave now.

 _Pietro was 17 years old._

Technically not even out of high school. But he didn't get to go anyway.

He didn't get the normal, yet erratic teenage life that every child deserved to have.

He spent his life in a cell, usually separated from his sister, crashing into the wall because he couldn't handle his powers yet. He spent his life being experimented on and tortured.

Not rolling his eyes at an annoying teacher, or celebrating the joy of a passed test.

He had planned on asking someone what school in America was like.

How being a teenager felt.

Pietro also wanted to run with Steve Rogers, because he heard that he always passed his friend on their daily runs.

Pietro wanted to train to fight with Clint and Natasha.

Pietro wanted to blow things up and rebuild them in a lab with Tony and Bruce.

Pietro wanted to hear about Thor's stories on Asgard and his childhood with his brother, who he saw die in front of him. Just like Wanda would see him die.

Pietro wanted to be an Avenger, _for real_.

Pietro wanted to stay with his sister, in the world of the living, so he could still protect her, and brag that he was still 12 minutes older, and embarrass her in front of guys that she may have liked.

 _Pietro wanted to move, and get up, and run again._

He wished and hoped that his eyes would stay open, because right now, they were about to close.

He wished and hoped that his heart would keep beating, because right now, it wasn't.

He wished and hoped that Wanda knew he was fighting so hard to stay, and that the Avengers would say that they forgave them.

He couldn't move, breathe, or do anything but think. And even then, his brain wasn't really working properly.

 _And so, Pietro Maximoff died wishing, and hoping, and wanting, because in truth, it was all he could do._


End file.
